


There's No Hiding For Me

by orphan_account



Series: Car Radio [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Kenma, Cancer, M/M, im sorry, sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I find it hard to hide it</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Hiding For Me

There was a certain degree of irony, one had to think, in promises of forever.

There were very few instances when they were kept; the thing about forever is that it’s a damn long time. People change, circumstances change, feelings change, and forever falls apart. Kuroo had thought this would be different. He and Kenma – they were different.

Whether or not you subscribed to the soulmates school of thought, that intangible red string that tied two people together, there was an undeniable connection. A frission, a spark that danced between the two of them whenever they met one another’s gaze, touched, kissed. And Kuroo had allowed himself to hope for a forever.

Now here it was, crashing down about his ears.

The breath he drew in was long, clinging to the edge of a gasp. In his lap, fingers fisted about one another, body tense, teeth clenched. There were words, words that had to be said. Words that had hung in the balance between the two of them for far too long. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to raise his head, to look the boy he loved in the eye and say them.

There was a certain weight to the speech of the thing, the knowledge that this was real, inescapable. Eyelids fluttering shut, he breathed deep once more, shoulders heaving. As the air puffed out of his mouth, a small hand alighted on his own. Delicate, one might say; all rounded nails and fragile fingers. Hands Kuroo had so often covered with his own, hands that he had held to comfort and to calm. Now they were here doing the same for him, one dancing up to cup his cheek as the other rested across fists.

Leaning into Kenma’s touch, a gentle sigh escaped his lips. He had to do this; he owed Kenma that much at least. The hands on him pulled away, and the shifting of the mattress at his side let him know that his partner had sunk down next to him. The heat of their small body bending in towards him, blond hair swinging into the edge of his vision.

“Kuro.” their voice was soft and warm in that inexplicable way that only they could ever possess. “Kuro, what’s wrong?”

It had to be done. It had to be done it had to be. Raising his head, Kuroo made to hold Kenma’s gaze – but as soon as those golden eyes locked with his, he found himself unable to hold them, to look into them without remembering the countless moments they had been trained on him, as they whispered that they loved him, loved him endlessly and fully, would love him forever.

“Kenma –“ nails digging into wrists and a deep breath.

“Kenma. I’m dying.” The soft breath at his side stuttered, a small, shocked sound in it’s place. A few oppressive moments of silence, and their voice broke in once more.

“Kuroo – I – Kuro … how? Why?”

Gaze firmly fixed on his own hands, Kuroo found himself pulling out the spiel he himself had heard so often. “Cancer. It’s in my brain.” A soft tap of a fist against his own skull as he continued. “It’s – it’s pretty large. I haven’t been responding to the treatment. There’s a 91% chance it’s terminal. I likely only have another year, if I’m lucky to get that far.”

He felt like laughing, screaming, rising to his feet and running. Beside him, Kenma was silent, shallow breaths dancing in and out of hearing. When they finally spoke, it was with a shaking voice and a trembling hand fisted into his shirt.

“How long. How long have you known? Why are you telling me now?” Kuroo could hear their plea, to turn around to look at them, laugh, say it was all a silly joke. He couldn’t meet their eyes.

“7 months and counting. I didn’t want to hurt you for longer than need be. I’m telling you now because this – “ a gesture at the thick, black hair that fell across his eyes, “ – it’ll be gone soon. The medication they use – hair falls out. I figured that would be a little hard to hide.”

The grip on his shirt tightened, tugging. “Kuro. Please, look at me. Please,”

Biting his lip, he did as they asked, turning shining eyes to meet theirs. The tears silently rolling down their cheeks made him wish he hadn’t. Silently, he leant in, arms encircling them, pulling them into him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. I’m okay.” He whispered into their shoulder.

It was a blatant lie – this was by far the least okay he had ever been. But sometimes empty sentiments are all you can offer someone.


End file.
